On A Dusty Road

You see, I didn’t know.
Maybe it was like being blind.
You have no idea there
Are things you are missing.
That’s how it was for me.
Things were hidden from me
Because, I suppose,
I was dead.
I don’t mean dead – not breathing;
Dead in my heart –
Dead in being aware of
The wonder and beauty in people.
I get it now because
Slowly I came alive.
It is so painful – coming alive.
All the parts of you that have
Been lifeless, like limbs
That have been to sleep.
Now, waking,
I see so plain,
Love flowing through
Eyes and faces
Moving them as wind
Might move leaves
On trees and branches.
And the limbs of my love
Hurt in a beautiful way,
Hurt with the way love
Stretches you and
Dances you
In movements that
Push you beyond yourself.
So it has been for me,
Coming alive and
Seeing people for the first time.
Seeing them moved like
Flags in the wind of love;
Seeing them flow fast
And turbulent with that love.
Now that love touched my eyes
And healed my blindness
Those things are visible to me.
I see the beauty of a person
Bubbling like a child with
The love they feel;
A child at a party
Hardly containing laughter.
I see those faces and bodies
Full of love that
Has been rejected
And the pain of having
So much to give with
No one to receive it.
Then I see the face of the dead.
I see death as it must have
Appeared on my own face.
A face without the movement
Of life flowing through it;
Perhaps twisted with
What cannot be allowed,
A face held empty of feelings
Except of despair,
Of pain at parents who
Never knew how to
Give themselves to their child.
So many stories I now see.
So many eyes wanting to
Be looked into with warmth.
So many hands seeking
To be held and held again.
But love touched me,
Held my hands
One day on a dusty road.
Love pulled me close
And asked nothing of me –
Only to let love in.
Now, maybe I too
Can walk dusty roads
And take a hand to
Pass on that magic.
Maybe I too
Can touch with love,
Heal the blind
And raise the dead to life.

Copyright ©2008 Tony Crisp